Scarlet Mourning
by rhapsodybree
Summary: Teresa Lisbon hadn't been sure what to expect that afternoon, but this wasn't it: a touchy-feely Jane, a baby in a pram and a trip to the hospital.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and only borrowed these characters for a little while.

* * *

It was a pleasant day as Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon sat comfortably side by side on a park bench.

Jane was sans jacket, his vest unbuttoned as he crossed one long leg over the other. Lisbon sat close, but not too close, her long hair covering the frequent looks she made around her.

Between them was a pram. Inside the pram was a small figure covered in a yellow blanket, a stuffed teddy bear pressed to one side. Not a sound came from within.

With a nonchalant air, Jane raised his arm and prepared to extend it behind them. "Touch me and Joseph Hopkins won't be the only one preparing to meet his maker," said Lisbon in a low tone.

Jane thought about disobeying for a second before he dropped his arm along the wooden rail of the bench instead. "Most people think I'm charming," he offered conversationally, not in the least perturbed by her rebuff.

Lisbon didn't miss a beat. "Most people don't know you," she replied, her eyes never shifting from surveillance.

"Touché," concurred Jane comfortably.

Silence fell between the two of them as Jane looked around with the very appearance of a bored husband, though his sharp eyes took in everything. Lisbon's eyes were equally active, though not as apparent.

It was Lisbon who spoke next. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing," she muttered, checking her watch.

"Have I ever led you astray?" posed Jane in a faux tone, one hand on his heart as turned his head back to hers.

Lisbon looked into his face. "Where would I begin?"

Meanwhile at Headquarters, Gale Bertram, continuing to listen in, shook his head as he turned to an agent. "Do those two ever stop?" he asked incredulously.

Cho looked at his boss's boss blandly. "Is that a question?"

"Right..." trailed off the director. He listened for a moment longer before he gave orders to Hightower that he wanted regular updates and left the room.

* * *

Half an hour later and Lisbon was getting restless. Making another conspicuous sweep of the semi-busy park, she leaned forward into the pram, extending her arm inside.

"The baby's fine," soothed Jane.

Her mind took it literally before she brought herself quickly back to reality. Of course they both knew by "baby" he meant the gun hidden amongst the doll's blankets.

Pressing her hand against the hard weapon through the blanket to reassure herself, the agent was ill-prepared for when Jane easily placed a hand on her back.

Lisbon jumped, startled at the touch, then moved swiftly to hide it.

Jane didn't comment on her reaction, but when she sat back up, and his hand was on the bench once again, she could see the grin on his lips.

Sparing another look to her watch and noting that the foot traffic through the park was increasing as workers began to make their way home, Lisbon turned to Jane.

The still grinning man turned to her with a clueless expression on his face belied by the amusement in his eyes.

His expression swiftly changed though when he saw Lisbon's face change from annoyance to horror.

"Lisbon?" he queried, concerned.

Seeing her reach into the pram for the gun, Jane immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Wow," he said in placating tones, "surely whatever I did this time, it can be resolved via non-violent means?"

She wasn't laughing and it took him a moment to realise that gun wasn't on him. "Teresa?" Jane probed, and when she still didn't reply, he turned, following her line of sight.

"Oh shoot," he said, seeing a man throwing people off to the side as he ran full-pelt toward them across the grass, gun in hand.

Patrick Jane did what he did best next, ducking down. Bringing his hands up to cover his head, he spared a glance to where Lisbon was now easing up from the bench, turning and ready to take her pose, gun in hand.

It was like in slow motion as he tilted his head and looked up to see her holding the gun firmly, her eyes intent on her target. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came into being as a gunshot sounded and ...

... all went black.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

At the hospital. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing and only borrowed these characters for a little while.

* * *

Lisbon tugged her thin jacket around her small form as she paced the small waiting area. She did not like waiting. Never had, never would.

"Was it your baby?" a kindly voice asked nearby.

It took Lisbon a long moment to realise that the woman was talking to her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"In the park?" the woman pressed. "Was it your baby?"

Lisbon shook herself back to reality. "Ah, no."

"Oh dear," the woman exclaimed, horrified as she placed a hand to her heart. "Was it someone else's child?"

"It wasn't a baby at all," Lisbon finally explained desperately. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"It will all be okay, dear," the old woman said, placing a hand on Lisbon's arm. "I can feel it in my bones."

Lisbon smiled tightly and backed away. Flipping open her phone, she had Rigsby on speed dial. "What do we know?" she snapped, her nerves seriously frayed.

"Boss," replied Rigsby, getting straight to the point. "Cho's taking Hopkins to headquarters. We found his car at the scene. Crime Scene's going over it with a fine tooth comb now."

"Has he said anything?" Lisbon asked.

"He's pretty much confessed," said Rigsby. "He freaked out when he saw all the blood."

Lisbon tried to erase that particular image from her mind. "And the baby?"

"She's okay."

The conversation went on for a few minutes before Rigsby asked nervously. "Ah boss, any word on Jane?"

Lisbon opened her mouth to reply in the negative when suddenly the double doors opened. "Anyone here for Patrick Jane?" asked a doctor in a white coat, clipboard in hand.

"I'll call you back later," said Lisbon, abruptly hanging up the call as she flipped the phone shut, her feet already moving toward the voice.

"That's me," she said, her arms folded back over her chest once again.

"You're his wife?" asked the doctor.

"No!" she replied instantly, her voice loud.

"He... he doesn't have any family," she quickly added, tempering her response. She swallowed. "I'm his part-boss," she finally managed.

The doctor looked at her dubiously before nodding and consenting. "He's just out of surgery," he said. "He was lucky. The bullet grazed his temple, but he's going to be okay."

"Oh thank God." It slipped out of her lips before she realised.

The doctor looked at his watch. "If you'll wait a few minutes, I'll get a nurse to take you into him."

"Thank you doctor," said Lisbon, sticking out her hand.

"He's not yet awake," warned the doctor as he shook her hand. "But he should be okay."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Lisbon was shown into a small room. The walls were starkly white. A series of machines beeped, lights flashing on various monitors.

On the bed in the middle of the room lay Patrick Jane. His head was propped up on a pillow, his blonde curls covered in a swath of bandages that were wrapped around his head.

Lisbon inched forward silently, thinking that she didn't like this picture before her. She was used to a vibrant, alive Jane – not this person with their eyes shut, not moving.

The life seemed to be gone from him.

Standing at the bottom of the bed, she was mortified to find tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. _What was she crying about? _she questioned herself harshly. _She only cried at funerals. _

"Not that anyone would cry at your funeral," snorted Lisbon, the reflexive humour slightly spoilt by her shiny eyes. "Least of all me."

She sniffled, feeling slightly better at this usual, albeit one-sided, banter. "It would be a relief almost. No more Patrick Jane to bother me."

"Not funny," came a sleepy voice. Lisbon's eyes opened in shock as Jane looked at her blearily.

Thrilled that he was waking up, she hid it the easiest way she could, by reprimanding him.

"Next time you have an idea, I'm going to lock you up," she vowed.

Patrick Jane tried to smile, but winced instead.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

The impatient patient. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and only borrowed them for a little while.

* * *

"Did you get him?" asked Jane.

"We got him," confirmed Lisbon and was mortified when tears began to pool in her eyes.

"Come here," ordered Jane.

Lisbon automatically balked at the order, taking a step back.

"I just want a hug," replied Jane, giving a lame attempt at rolling his eyes.

"You're not dying," said Lisbon warily.

"Are we going to wait until then?" shot back the consultant incredulously.

Lisbon rolled her own eyes then and stepped toward him in a perfunctory manner. For all their joviality, they clung to each other fiercely.

"Don't you ever do that again," Lisbon said, her voice hidden in his chest.

He just gripped her tighter.

Unbeknownst to them, Cho stepped into the room. The agent looked at the sight before him and turned abruptly, pushing his colleagues from the room. "Time to go."

"What?" exclaimed Rigsby.

Grace was slightly more cluey and helped Cho tug their tall, inquisitive friend out.

Hearing the door shot, the couple on the bed pulled apart and Lisbon backed away awkwardly.

"I've got to go."

* * *

Three hours later and Lisbon could feel a headache coming on. The phone ringing at her desk, she happily abandoned her incomplete report and reached for the handset.

"Ms Lisbon?" said a hopeful voice on the other line.

"Yes?" replied the agent curtly. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Nurse Ainsworth from the hospital..."

"Is Jane okay?" interrupted Lisbon, shooting upright in her chair.

"Jane? Oh, Patrick. He's fine," reassured the nurse. "Moran than fine," Lisbon heard faintly muttered under her breath.

"Then what seems to be the problem?"

"Would you mind coming down to the hospital?"

* * *

Lisbon stood at the end of the hospital bed, her arms folded over her chest as she eyed the patient in the bed before her.

Patrick Jane also had his arms crossed over his chest, looking every inch the naughty schoolboy.

"Behave," she ordered him.

"Or else what?" sulked Jane.

"I'll speak to the doctor about keeping you here longer," she threatened.

That snapped his mouth shut.

For about two seconds.

Turning to the nurse, Lisbon rolled her eyes at the whine that came from his lips. "When can I go home?"

"Not until tomorrow," came the brisk reply. "We want to keep you under observation overnight."

Jane actually pouted and Lisbon felt the slightest bit sorry for him, knowing how he felt about hospitals.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow," she promised and impatiently suppressed the warm feeling in her chest at the smile Patrick flashed in her direction.

"Kiss it better before you go?" he asked, back to his usual self as he pointed at his bandaged head.

"In your dreams," she threw back at him.

"Well, if you insist."

Her face flushed and she moved toward the door. She could see the nurse struggling to hide her laughter and nodded in her direction.

"He should be an ideal patient from now on ma'am."

* * *

_Finito._


End file.
